I think it is fitting that a few days before I leave for Nicaragua, I am at the Common Cup, meeting with Polly, getting into some heavy philosophical discussions about ejamakation in this country and what do they have here? Nicaraguan coffee. Of course I partook.
And this makes me think about my weak-ass, non-existent role in the Nicaraguan revolution. I am speaking of the ideals of the revolution, not what it has become. I'm taking about agrarian reform and education and opportunities. Here I am, a teacher of writing, but when I go to Nicaragua, I am forever a child. I am daughter of Herman and Sylvia, completely at their mercy. Have I ever thought to rent a car in Nicaragua and go about on my own? Or simply hop on a bus? I've done the bus thing before. I survived. Now I hear all kinds of horror stories. Maybe I should not listen to them. On the other hand, leaving my familia for a moment of my short (or long visit, depending on your interpretation) visit would be considered an insult. A great wounding insult.
So, there are two things I'd like to check out while I'm there. A cafe in Granada that serves as a job training program for street kids. And something Amanda Lichtenstein sent me about theater ed. But who knows. I'll be there during the Christmas season. We'll see who's available to talk and what not.
And anyway, I often wonder at my own level of dedication to this work. Am I dedicated? And to what? Do I believe in the power of education? Yes. Am I willing to put my heart and soul into it? I'm not sure.
I participated in Sensei David Rose's aikido class last night at Clemente H. S. He had a 7th kyu test set up for the kids. Sensei Garza showed up to administer the test. The kids were scared witless. They were funny. They were stiff and awkward. As I watched them, I found myself talking under my breath at them. "Don't stop. Don't stop. You can do this." I remembered how scared I was for my first test, though I don't remember the test itself. Later, David Rose talked to the boys, telling them that they exhibited a new level of dedication to the art, and that because they've shown this new level of dedication, that he would put more of an investment in them. And I thought about that and about teaching in general. It is an investment. It has been good for me to be in David's classes, because he's not just a good sensei, he's a good Social Studies teacher. I've sat in on his classes and I'm continually aware of his passion and dedication. I lack that kind of gusto. I wonder if it has something to do with belief, or what?
Anyway, he said that it matters...that even if you touch a few people it matters. I guess I needed to hear that.
So, when class was over and we bowed to each other I thanked each of the boys and said, "Congratulations." And I felt it. I felt that I was truly congratulating them and I felt that they'd been initiated into something. It's kind of like when you go through the Fiction Writing program, and after you've been through Fiction I and you turned in your 60+ pages, you've done something. And you know the semi-circle and the sense of it. And when you run into people that you sat in a semi-circle with before, you feel like you've run into long lost family; a tribesman.
And David Rose, for those of you who do not know him, is a scary looking man. I mean, he is someone I have feared on the mat for a long time. I never took an aikido class with him, because of my schedule and because I was afraid of him. He looks like a football player and when he attacks he comes at you all hardcore. He was one of my ukes for my last test and as soon as I saw that he was going to be my uke, I felt my stomach sink. I thought, "Oh shit." But, he looked like he was going to cry after the kids' test. I called him a sweetheart. It was a revelation to me. He took it well.
Anyway, he's one of those people who I can say has a calling to teach. I still doubt whether teaching is my calling. I can do it well, but I don't think I make the emotional connection to my students that I see in really really dedicated teachers. Whatever.
I think I'm more dedicated to story. And sometimes I teach story. Is that the same as being dedicated to the art and not the student? Can you do that and get away with it? For how long?
Maybe aikido is the best example of dedicated teaching. You've got people who do all this teaching, that they do not get paid for, and they do it for the love of the art and what the art gives people. So, people like Sensei Garza who works for the phone company, then goes to the dojo, and makes friends with everyone, and calls people when they stop coming to see what's up, and tries to make everyone welcome...this is dedication.
But I want to do what I want to do. And my wants are very simple and petty...I want to write. I want to read something other than student work. I want to be able to read something, just because it takes my attention (like Musicophilia by Oliver Sacks--I recommend it). I want to crochet and I want to sew clothes and I want to go out and go to concerts. Basically, I want to be on vacation. Really, this is my GLAMOROUS idea of a vacation...reading what I want when I want, crocheting, sewing, writing, aikido, yoga and sleeping until noon. Did I mention sleeping until noon? SLEEPING UNTIL NOON, without the least hint of shame. I'll make up for it by reading until 3 am, believe me, that's my internal clock. It's so hard to make my body function on normal people time.
Ok, as I write this I can see where I am at. I am ready for the semester to be over. That's what this is. I taught two classes at Columbia and I'm exhausted. I still have student work to read and grades to enter, but then I'm done for several weeks and I think I will need those weeks to recoup for the next round.
Yes it's a battle. Round 2!
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